Magna Carta

by Griff Hosker

  On that message my men retired for we would be up early. We would make forced marches using the many new horses we had obtained. We would cross the land at the speed of the wind. King Alexander was in for a shock.

  We reached Ripon just before dark. I used the common land to graze our horses and we bought barley and oats for them. Our horses would be the way we would defeat the Scots. We had to look after them. We would catch the Scots.

  I had not heard from my archers. That was not a surprise. They would not return until they had news. We left the next morning to begin the climb over the mountains. The road we used was not Roman and it twisted and turned. There were sheer drops to the side and we did not move as quickly as I might have hoped. I sent Cedric Warbow and two other archers to search for David of Wales. I was becoming anxious. We reached Skipton and the lord there had seen no sign of either my archers or the Scots. We still had some hours before sunset and rather than staying in the castle we pushed on towards Clitheroe.

  The manor there was small but there were fields where we could camp. Many of the Durham knights were becoming despondent about the lack of news. I still had confidence in my archers. We had just lit the fires when Cedric Warbow rode in alone. “We have found them lord. They have crossed the Ribble and are camped at Bamber Bridge which is a few miles upstream of Prestune and on the south bank. David of Wales has men watching them. He said, lord, that he has men looking for somewhere further south where you can ambush them.”

  “He is a good man.”

  Robert Fitz Clare asked, “Is it not a risk to anticipate where they will go?”

  “I would not wish to keep chasing them. That just exhausts our mounts. If we can cut across their line of march we meet them sooner.”

  Cedric explained the best route for us to take. “David of Wales will keep us informed as to their movements and the best ambush site.”

  We left well before dawn and headed down the Douglass valley. It was not easy going for the roads here were little better than tracks. This was not the fertile plain. This was an area of high ground crisscrossed by becks and brooks. Mordaf ap Tomas found us. “Lord there is a hill north of Newton le Willows. It is called Bylnge locally. There is a ridge which overlooks the road the Scots will pass. They cannot avoid it. David of Wales thinks that it will be the best place to attack.”

  Robert Fitz Clare said, “An archer decides where we fight?”

  Sir Edward laughed, “He is a better commander than many I have met. If he chooses this place then it will suit us.”

  My archer turned to return to his captain. He did not follow the road, as we did, he took off over the fields and up the hill sides. Once we crossed the last hill we saw before us the flat plain which stretched west to the sea. There, to the south west was a single ride with a conical shaped hill. David had been right. It was perfect. As we headed towards it I wondered why no one had thought to build a castle here and then I realised that it should not have needed one. Carlisle and Lancaster blocked an enemy from the north while Chester guarded the south and west. So long as we were ahead of the Scots then we had a chance.

  I saw that the archers were there already. We headed south and west to approach the hill and the ridge from the south. We would be hidden from view. The ridge ran obliquely across the landscape. We could use the dead ground behind it to mask our numbers. The sudden sight of my men rising like wraiths from the ridge might surprise the Scots enough for them to ignore our paltry numbers. Cedric had already told me that they outnumbered us by more than five to one. This would not be a charge of heavy horsemen. This would be a defensive battle which would make them bleed their resolve away.

  Dick One Arrow greeted me, “The captain and the two Tomas boys are watching them. They are a few miles up the road. You have made good time, lord.”

  “We rode hard Dick. Dismount. Today we fight on foot. Tether the horses on the lower slopes. Feed and water the animals. Knights, gather below the crest.” I slung my shield over my back and carried my helmet as Alfred led Scean away to join Flame and the other horses. He would return with my spear. The conical hill at the top of the ridge was a distinctive feature. It was not particularly large but it could be seen from miles. That was what we needed. We needed to be seen and arrest the progress of the Scots. The ridge itself sloped gently but the hill itself looked almost man made. It reminded me of a larger version of the Bishop’s old castle at Bishopton. I saw that John the Archer and James were on the hill itself. They were not wearing my surcoat. When they scouted they used brown cloaks and the two were almost invisible.

  John slid down and came towards me without exposing himself on the skyline. “I see them lord.” He pointed to the south west. “The road passes within a few hundred paces of this ridge and heads towards a small village called Birchley. We scouted it out and there is neither lord nor hall there. The only folk we found was a farmer and his family. We told them that the Scots were coming and they fled to Ashton. They have family there.”

  “Is there a lord there, at Ashton?”

  He frowned, “I think that there must be from what he said but I do not know for certain.”

  This was the domain of the Earl of Chester and he would know. I waved over Padraigh the Wanderer, “Ride south and east. There should be a hall there. Tell the lord that the Earl of Cleveland needs him and his men to face the Scots here on this hill of Bylnge.”

  “Aye lord.”

  I followed John and bellied up to the ridge. My surcoat would stand out like a banner if I walked. I saw the snake that was the column of Scots as they marched down the narrow, twisting road. It was not Roman and it adhered to the fields. It explained their slow progress. Once they reached the lands south of Chester they would be on a Roman road. The Earl Marshal was there with the young prince. If the Scots knew of his presence then a slight deviation could make all of the Earl Marshal’s plans irrelevant. We had to stop them.

  I slid down the slope. Ridley and Will son of Robin were there with my knights. “I will be on the top of that hill with my standard. The rest of you will form three lines below the ridge line. There will be knights, men at arms and archers. I will stand with my banner and my squire. I wish them to see me. When Alfred sounds the horn then you walk to the ridge. The archers will stand on the top protected by the men at arms and knights.”

  David of Stanhope asked, “And if they do not choose to attack?”

  I smiled, Then King Alexander will show that he is a fool. The road is within our archers’ range and our horsemen could fall upon his baggage. I think he will attack.” While they arrayed themselves in their lines and I awaited Alfred I waved over Robert Fitz Clare. “The Earl of Chester should be close, should he not?”

  “It is a longer journey from Carlisle to Chester than I had to reach Stockton. His knights are in the castles which border Wales. He will have mustered and he will be coming but his men are not all mounted.”

  “Then we fight alone.” He nodded. “Was your banner seen by the Scots at Carlisle?”

  “Aye lord.”

  Then you and your squire can be with me on the hill top. Let us see if we can confuse them.”

  He went for his squire and banner. Alfred arrived with my banner and two spears. “Come, let us see what sort of view the top of this slope affords.” The steep hill was hard to climb. The ridge itself had been gentle. The Scots would be able to use their horses to charge us. The hill itself would be an obstacle. Horses could not climb it. That would be the place for a last stand; if it came to that. The wind was from the north east and we had some protection when we reached the top. The wind made it feel cooler. I saw the Scots. They were now less than two miles away and I saw a knot of riders heading for the ridge. That would be David of Wales and my scouts. “Do not unfurl your banner until Sir Robert arrives.”

  “Aye lord.” He pointed at the Scots. “They have many banners.”

  “This is the first time their King has led his men into England. He will have brought all of the knigh
ts we did not slay.”

  Sir Robert and his squire huffed and puffed their way to the top, “That is a prodigious climb, lord.”

  I nodded, “And yet it is but fifty or so paces higher than the ridge. It will serve.” I waited until the Scots were a mile away. I could see the Lion Standard which his father had used. We would be visible but not a worry. “Now squires, let fly your banners.” The wind from the north east made them flutter square above our heads. They would know now that the Earl of Cleveland, the bane of the Scots was here. I had not killed King William. It was age which had taken him but his son would hold me responsible. That alone would draw him to me. He would know that I would not come alone but he would not know where my men lay nor how many of them there were. I watched David of Wales lead my archers behind the ridge to join the other archers. He would lead them now. I looked to my left and right. Hidden from the Scots were my three lines of warriors. With under a hundred knights, two hundred men at arms and fewer than a hundred and fifty archers we alone were not enough to defeat the Scots. We were enough to deter them. We had half a day to weary them until night fell.

  William of Lincoln ran up the slope, “Lord Geoffrey of Asheton has arrived he has twenty men at arms and twenty of his yeomen.”

  “Good. His yeoman can watch the horses. It will release men to fight and he can join Sir Edward.” It was little that he brought but the ten men who would have had to guard the baggage and the horses could now fight. They might make all the difference.

  I saw that we had been seen for the Scots stopped. A few riders, light horsemen on ponies, detached themselves and headed closer. They would be looking for the rest of my men. I had more than enough time to order them to rise to the top of the ridge. The more uncertainty in the young king’s mind the better. They rode to within four hundred paces of us. There were eight of them and I wondered if they were considering charging at me. If they did then they would find the slope too steep even for their hardy ponies. I still held my helmet and my arming cap was hanging down. My face was well known. Once I had been identified they turned and rode back to the main army. There was another discussion when they arrived and then the Scots arrayed. Their knights would lead. I saw that their King would be with them but he left a third of his army with the baggage. They formed a circle around it. I smiled. My reputation for cunning was well known. The Scots approached in four lines of men two hundred paces wide. The leading line was made up of knights. The gentle slope was no obstacle. The land had never been tilled and animals had grazed it to make an easy turf on which to ride.

  The young king had learned how to use his men. They did not come recklessly at us. They were steady and kept a tight line. When they were five hundred paces from us I shouted, “Alfred, the horn!”

  The horn sounded and there was the slightest hesitation from the Scots. Our horns normally presaged disaster. Were my men coming around their flanks? The banners of my knights rising like a bright and colourful wave over the ridge was the first sight they had of my men. The banners were followed by knights and then men at arms. The archers would be hidden behind my two ranks. We moved down from the summit of the small hill to join Sir Edward and Sir David who would flank us. The Scottish King waved his sword and they moved forward again. Even when they charged the gentle slope would take the edge from their speed. The knights and men at arms who stood in two lines presented a forest of spears. That was what the Scots would see and they would deem it to be assailable.

  When they were three hundred paces from us I shouted, “They are in range, David!”

  Their arrows already nocked my captain of archers shouted, “Draw!” They could not see to aim but they would lay down a shower of arrows which would be the length of our line. Any within that area would risk death or a wound. He waited a heartbeat to allow them to come closer and then shouted, “Release!” Even as the arrows rose he shouted, “Draw!”

  The Scots did not see the arrows which were sent high in the air. They were in the process of lowering their spears and watching the ground to ensure that they did not trip or fall. When the arrows struck, as they closed to two hundred paces from us, there was a mixture of cracks as arrows hit metal and wood and screams from men and horses as some arrows found flesh. The horses suffered the most. Some fell. Others tumbled, stumbled and veered; as they did so they brought down other horses and riders. The second and third flights added to the confusion and mayhem. The continuous line of knights was now broken and uneven. Before they managed to come into contact with us another twenty horses and riders joined the twenty who had already fallen. Some knights were struggling to their feet and they broke up the lines which were following.

  “Brace!” I angled my spear up and put my foot against the shaft. Behind me Ridley the Giant’s long arms held his spear so that it was an arm’s length beyond my shield. The slope, the arrows, the dead and dying horses as well as the wall of steel tipped ash meant that the horses of the Scots would not charge home. They baulked and they stopped. Two spears struck my shield but one of the knights’ horses, already pierced by my spear, was struck in the throat by Ridley’s jabbing spear. The knight fell to land at Sir Edward’s feet. Unable to move his spear he swung his leg and kicked the man under the chin. He fell backwards. The Scottish horses were now the problem for they were panicking and King Alexander, just twenty paces from me shouted, “Sound fall back!” The horn sounded and knights began to disengage. I saw that the King had arrows in his shield and in his saddle. His helmet showed a dent where he had been struck too.

  Some did not obey the King’s orders. They were angry and they jabbed and hacked at our line of knights. They did not heed the command and they fell. As the knights rode down the hill my archers continued to rain death upon them. They descended quicker than they had attacked.

  David of Wales shouted, “Hold! Archers retrieve arrows!”

  We broke ranks to allow the archers to race down the hill and recover the arrows which were unbroken. As they did so they despatched any knights who were beyond help. They fetched back four who were wounded. They would be held by Sir Geoffrey’s men with the horses.

  Sir Edward walked down to recover the sword and purse of the knight whose neck he had broken and Sir Robert asked, “What will they do now, Lord?”

  “If I led them I would make camp and then send men in the night to surround us and make a night attack. They will not do that. King Alexander wants glory. He now knows our numbers. They will come on foot. With shields held aloft and before them then our archers will not kill as many. When they have to negotiate the dead knights and horses we will kill more but he will rely on sheer numbers to overcome us. Remember King Alexander hopes to gain Northumberland from this!”

  Our squires brought water and we watched and waited. There would be another couple of hours before dusk. These would be long days. It was still a couple of weeks before the longest day. We had not yet finished our work but we had made a good start.

  As I had expected they formed lines of men on foot and this time they would come as one mighty block. They were using less men for they now needed horse holders. The King, I saw, stayed mounted with his household knights and they watched. Perhaps the arrows had suggested that he might die an inglorious death. Crucially he had fifty knights with him. That was fifty less knights for us to face.

  I shouted, “We hold them. Night will soon fall and we are well placed here.”

  Men began banging their shields and chanting. “Warlord! Warlord! Warlord!” It was mainly my men but it spread. When you were attacking such things prey on your mind. You begin to worry. What the Scots should have done was chant the King’s name in response but they did not. They advanced.

  “Now David!”

  This time I waited until they were two hundred paces from us. David would be able to send his arrows almost vertically. The wind from the north east would ensure that they came nowhere near us but with a vertical angle they might strike men who held their shields before them. There were many men
advancing without mail. Only the front ranks wore mail and the rest would have to endure David’s arrows. As I had Ridley the Giant behind me I hefted my spear up. I only liked using my spear from horseback. I pulled back and waited. When the Scots were twenty paces from us and with men behind the front two ranks dying they could wait no longer and they charged at us. When a man runs he cannot help but use his arms to gain speed. Their shields did not protect them. I hurled my spear at the chest of the knight with the four yellow stars on a blue background. Even as it tore into him I drew my sword.

  The spears of the Scots rattled and cracked on our shields. Once the spears had struck then they were useless as weapons. I found myself face to face with a red bearded knight. He had a helmet with a nasal and a ventail. He roared at me but the spear shaft would do me no harm. My sword was above me and the press of men was too great to swing it and so I began to saw it back and forth across the mail links of his ventail. I pushed with shield. Ridley the Giant and Henry Youngblood, not to mention Alfred, stood behind me and they would not be shifted. My sword had a good edge and as the blade rasped against the mail I saw the links break. It was then he realised what I was doing. He could do little about it as the men behind him were pushing into his back. His spear and his shield were trapped against my men. He should have dropped his spear and tried to draw his dagger. He did not. I saw panic in his eyes as my sword broke through the mail and began to tear through his gambeson. Designed to absorb blows it would not stop a sword. When my edge caught his neck, the blood did not seep and ooze, it spurted and it arced. Sir Robert took advantage for the blood sprayed into the eyes of the knight he was fighting and Sir Robert’s sword gutted him.